


Safe Haven

by stilinskipov



Category: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan O’Brien (Actor), The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner RPF, The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Finding Minho, Hurt Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt’s Death, The Death Cure, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 18:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskipov/pseuds/stilinskipov
Summary: When plans go array and you’re split from your love, you can only pray he makes it to the Safe Haven.





	Safe Haven

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic since I’ve been back in the fandom, and I also just watched The Death Cure, so I am still very much mourning. 

“He’ll be home soon,” you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath and busying yourself as much as you could. **  
**

You sat with on the sand, cargo pants rolled up your legs as your feet sat in the cool water, toes wiggling in the little waves and you stared at the battered boat that would soon be your ticket to the Safe Haven.

Twiddling with your thumbs was all you could really do in your state. Had no choice but to wait for the others to get back from _Operation Minho_. None of them listened when you suggested helping, all insisted you needed to stay at camp.

You knew they were right, but sitting around all day just didn’t do it for you. You missed the thrill of the adventures, and you wanted to help save your friend. Thomas, of course, assured you that he would bring him home safe and sound and that he couldn’t have you getting in harm’s way.

You remember rolling your eyes and shrugging him off, not bothering to say goodbye when they all left and you were quickly regretting it. What if he doesn’t come back? What if WCKD catches him again?

You couldn’t bear the thought, couldn’t handle the stress and worry that history would repeat itself. So, you willed back the tears, emotions on overdrive and you didn’t seem to have control over anything these days.

Just as you were about to let out a choked sob, you heard that familiar air engine running from a distance, could hear the cheering and cries of joy, so you jumped to your feet with wide eyes and awaited their arrival.

Their stupid plan had worked and you couldn’t wait to have your old friend and your love back in your arms. You waited patiently, watched as the mass of kids came running through barriers, how their smiles gleamed beneath the sun.

But you couldn’t see him, couldn’t see Minho. You stretched to your tiptoes, head peering as high as it could, but that familiar head of black hair was nowhere to be seen. Your wide eyes and hopeful smile turned to a downcast frown, confusion temporarily etched in your forehead.

“Go get yourselves comfortable, you’re safe,” that soft voice spoke and your eyes quickly followed it. You saw Thomas send the group of kids off with a reassuring smile, and before you could think, your feet were carrying you to him.

“Where is he?” you whispered out just as you reached him, eyes slightly frantic and lips parted. He turned to you with a tight-lipped smile and sorrowful eyes. You frowned harder, shaking your head and stumbling toward him a little more. 

Thomas wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We got the wrong damn crate,” he murmured into your hair, tears welling in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“What are we gonna do, Tommy?” you whispered through a shaky breath. Thomas sighed and gave you a gentle squeeze, leading you to a stump where he guided you to sit on and he knelt between your legs, hands on your thighs and yours cupping his face.

“I don’t know, but we’re gonna get him back, I promise,” he whispered softly, tone so gentle it usually put you to sleep when he whispered like that in the darkness, but this time, it barely soothed your nerves and worries, even with the sun shining without a care in the world.

“In a few days, we will be leaving for the Safe Haven, and that ship is our ticket out of here,” you overheard, head turning to the source of the cheering and you turned back to Thomas with a frantic expression.

“We’re not gonna find him in time,” you shrieked under your breath, breathing frantic and Thomas rushed closer to you, cupping your cheeks in his grubby hands.

“Hey, look at me,” he cooed, thumbs brushing against your cheeks and you took a deep breath, staring at those honey eyes and wishing you’d never someday wake up without them beside you.

“We’re gonna get him back, baby. I promise you,” he kissed your lips softly, one hand leaving your cheek and it held the swell of your stomach. “I promise you both, our baby is gonna meet their Uncle Minho the second they arrive,” he assured you.

“Not before his Uncle Newt,” a British accent quipped from behind Thomas, a grin on his tanned face and you choked out a laugh. “Oh, so my baby is a boy?” you raised your brows, scooting over so Newt could sit beside you and rub your bump.

“I’m sure of it, _and_ , if I’m right, I expect him to be named after me,” he quipped, a cheeky smile on his face and you stifled out a laugh, thankful for his distracting techniques and you stared down at your belly that barely fit beneath Thomas’ shirts.

“I say that’s a fair deal,” you teased back.

Thomas watched you throw your head back with laughter, hands on your bulging stomach and his heart swooned. He knew he’d have to leave again to find Minho, so seeing you with your most radiant smile, somewhat got him through.

* * *

With your back to his chest and his arms around your middle, Thomas nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with little kisses and you giggled sleepily into the pillow.

“God, you’re so warm,” he sighed out in content, snuggling closer and tugging the sheets right up to your chins. You grinned and shimmied back into him a little, hand holding his over your stomach and you hummed.

“Body heat of two, remember,” you quipped, a yawn slipping past your lips and you buried your face further into the pillow. “Or maybe you’re just hot,” he nibbled at your neck, voice a sultry tone and you let out a loud laugh.

“Last time you talked to me like that, this happened,” you scratched your stomach between his fingers and a deep rumble of laughter sounded from the back of his throat. “Mhh, I remember,” he spoke in the same tone again, teasing your neck with sweet kisses.

As affectionate as Thomas was, you frowned at his unusual amount of such in a serious time like this. You twisted in his grasp the best you could, turning to face him, and that’s when you saw it, saw the guilt clouding his eyes and you swallowed hard.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” you whispered, bottom lip already quivering and Thomas closed his eyes with a sigh. “Let me come with you,” you pleaded, though your suggestion only caused his eyes to fly open and head to shake.

“Y/N, you’re eight months pregnant. Like fuck am I gonna let you come with me,” he argued, voice still soft but it was stern enough for you to know he wasn’t going to budge. “What if you don’t come back, Tommy? I’m scared,” you finally admitted, tears trickling over your waterline.

Thomas wiped your tears away and softly kissed your lips, a gesture so loving and gentle your eyes fluttered closed. “I will _always_ come back to you,” he kissed you again, hand brushing your hair from your face.

You helped him pack a bag, helped him potter around and make sure he had everything, but when you walked him out and saw Newt already waiting and Fry in the car, you couldn’t help the quiver in your lip.

Thomas noticed right away and shook his head with a sad smile, cupping your cheeks in the palm of his hands and kissing your swollen lips. “I love you, so much, okay?” he needed you to know, needed you to remember he loved you.

You nodded and took a deep breath. “I love you, too, Tommy,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him again before he pulled away and caressed your swollen stomach. He gazed down at the bump for a moment, chin slightly quivering and he knew there was a possibility he wouldn’t make it back.

He kissed you again, a little harder this time, but you didn’t mind, you felt the same urgency that he did. Thomas pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. He struggled to find the words to say, to tell you how he felt, but you already knew.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips, nodding your head just a little as a tear slipped from your eye. “Me too,” you gulped. It wasn’t a goodbye, it was an ‘I’ll see you later’. It was stronger than an ‘I love you’, and you weren’t sure how it was possible.

He kissed you again, chapped lips soft on yours and your hands held his head, holding him close as you kissed him back. “I gotta go,” he whispered, pulling back and you pursed your lips, thankful for his lingering taste on your tongue.

You nodded and took a step back while holding your stomach, allowing Fry to grace you in a hug before he clambered back in the truck. “Look after my nephew,” Newt grinned as he wandered closer, pulling you into his arms and you held him for a little longer, a feeling in your gut telling you to.

“I will. Look out for each other, I want you all coming back to me in one piece,” you mumbled against his shoulder, squeezing him a little more and Newt nodded, kissing your cheek and gently rubbing his hand over your swell.

“You look after your Mum, mate,” he sternly told your bump, a laugh slipping past your lips and he offered you a smile before twisting on his heels and calling shotgun. You caught Thomas’ eyes as he sat in the back seat, staring at you through the window.

You offered him a reassuring smile and blew him a kiss, waving a little at three of your favourite boys and he mouthed an ‘I love you’ before they drove away and out of sight.

* * *

Two days.

Two days since you said goodbye to him. Two days since the others went to help. Two days since you’d heard the word of them sneaking into WCKD.

You sat on your bed, deep breaths slipping past your chapped lips as you cradled your stomach, counting the seconds between each jolt of pain and you couldn’t help the cries that came with them.

Vince sat across the room, packing your belongings into bags and boxes as fast as he could. A Med-jack sat beside you, wet cloth in her hand as she soothed your matted hair from your face, tried cooling your burning skin but it was no use.

“We have to wait for Thomas,” you cried out, clutching her hand and Vince spun around and shook his head. “No, we get everyone to the Safe Haven on the boat and then we get Thomas and the others,” he repeated the plan, a plan that didn’t sit well with you.

Before you could protest, a flood of water splashed to the ground from between your legs, soaking your pants and a horrific cry sounding past your lips and panic took over. “The baby’s coming, honey, you can’t wait,” the Med-jack spoke again, her eyes wide.

You shook your head, fighting back tears the best you could. “No, I can’t. Not without Tommy,” you sobbed, refusing to leave but Vince wasn’t having it. He stalked toward you, ordering the Med-jack to continue to pack and he scooped you into his arms.

“Vince, I can’t–” you were cut off by a deafening cry from the back of your throat, body hurtling forward in his arms and you could tell he was struggling to keep you up. “Y/N, you are not having the baby here,” he demanded, running out of your little hut and through the masses of teens getting their things onto the ship.

“Hey! A little help!” Vince yelled out, steadily setting you back to your feet and you hurled over again, crying out in pain as you held your stomach. Three young men immediately sprinted over with wide eyes and wrapped their arms around you.

“Get her to the ship and give her whatever she needs! Go!” he ordered, gently guiding you with a hand on your back before you were escorted onto the ship, cries echoing through the build as the men slowly eased you to the floor.

“Get Valerie,” you cried out, desperate for someone with actual medical training. Two of the men took off in a sprint as the other grabbed as much cloth as he could. “My pants… we need to take them off,” you cried, fingers fumbling with your belt and he took a step back with wide eyes.

“Now is not the time to get shy, my baby is coming!” you yelled at the boy, snapping him out of his little daze and he rushed to your side, unbuttoning your belt and helping you to tug your soaked pants down your trembling legs.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Valerie yelled out as she ran through the ship, pushing the fumbling boy away and prying your legs open, throwing a sheet over your knees and her head disappeared under it as she removed your underwear.

Her head popped back out and she rummaged through her little med-kit. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re not ready to start pushing yet, so whatever you do, _don’t_.” Valerie explained, voice stern but you knew to listen and do whatever she said.

As you sat on the cold floor of the boat, desperate cries slipping from your lips, you watched the others board the ship, could hear their cheers about their journey to safety, but all you could think about was Thomas.

You worried he wouldn’t come back to you, that WCKD would get him, would take him away from you and your baby. You let out another choked sob, body shaking with fear and panic and Valerie rushed to your side.

Your vision began to blur, breathing slow and unsteady. You could barely hear her begging you to keep your eyes open, could only just feel her shaking your shoulders before everything went black.

* * *

Your eyes shot open as a scream tore through your throat, the beams of the sun shining down on your face and you knew you were no longer on the ship. You were cooped in another makeshift hut, resting in a comfortable bed and Valerie sat between your legs.

You cried out again, head thrown back and you fell back onto the sheets. “You need to start pushing, Y/N. Push!” Valerie yelled out, voice loud and clear and you did as she said, pushed with all you could but it hurt too much.

“Thomas!” you cried out, face contorted in pain. Valerie lifted from her position and leaned just inches from your face. “He’s here, but you need to push!”

You screamed out in pain, sweat and blood pouring from you as you pushed as hard as you could. The flap of the tent came bursting open, that familiar head of black hair approaching you and you cried out.

“Minho,” you sobbed, grabbing his hand and squeezing the hardest you could, knuckles turning white from your hold. “Push, Y/N, push!” Valerie instructed again, another cry tearing through your lips.

“Thomas,” you whimpered out, head against the pillow as you turned to face your friend. “He’s here, he’s resting,” he assured you, spare hand shoving your hair from your face and his thumb gently rubbed against your forehead.

“Newt…” you breathed, and you noticed the way Minho pursed his lips and looked away. You choked on a cry, shaking your head and you gripped his hand harder. “No,” you cried, sob growing louder as the baby began to stretch you out.

“Thomas!” you screeched out, gripping onto anything you could. And then the flap of the tent burst open again. You struggled to see through your tears, but you knew that mop of brown hair from anywhere. You let go of Minho and reached out for him, sobs racking through your body and he sunk to his knees beside you.

“Tommy,” you cried out, gripping onto him as if he’d disappear if you ever let go. “I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he cried as he held your hand and kissed your sweaty forehead, bringing himself as close as he could.

“Push! Y/N, push!”

Thomas watched you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to push as hard as you could, your cries sounding through the entire Safe Haven and Thomas continued to kiss your hand, not bothered by the way you crushed his.

And just like that, the pain stopped and someone else’s cries found your ears. “Oh my God,” Thomas breathed, watching Valerie place the crying baby on your chest, your breathing slowly steadying and you let out a sob.

“It’s a boy,” she softly told you, your shaking hands hovering over his bloody head, and you gently pushed his little hairs away. “He was right,” Thomas choked out, watching the way your little boy cried out for love.

Valerie gently cleaned the baby, keeping him on your chest before she ushered everyone but Thomas out of the hut. “He’s got your hair,” you laughed through tears, bottom lip quivering and Thomas let out a soft chuckle, his large hand covering the expanse of his son’s back.

“Got your nose,” he commented back, looking at the restless boy before looking at you and noticing just how tired you were. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, lips hovering over yours and he finally kissed you, so softly, you almost didn’t feel it.

Thomas took his son in his arms for a moment, completely mesmerised by the little being you and he had made. The boy’s cries faltered as you sat up and took him in your arms, scooting over for Thomas to sit beside you and cradle the little boy’s head in his hand.

You sat in silence for a moment, basking in the joyous birth of your child and your newfound safety. And then you remembered. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered into the silence, turning to look at your lover and he froze.

“Tommy, it’s not your fault,” you spoke again, begging that he listened to and believed your words. He nodded a little as if he was trying to persuade himself. “I know,” he whispered through a silent cry and pursed lips.

Before anything else could be said, the flap to the tent slowly lifted and Minho sheepishly poked his head in. “Can I see my nephew now?” he asked softly, a smile on your lips as you nodded your head.

Minho wandered in, cooing at the sleeping baby and quickly, your tent was full with your favourite people, and… _Gally?_

“I’ll explain later,” Thomas mumbled in your ear when he noticed you freeze. You nodded and took a deep breath, smiling at Vince who held the proudest smile on his face.

“Never seen a baby before,” Fry laughed nervously, staring at the sleeping child so wearily it made the others laugh. Thomas watched his son twitch in your arms and he pressed a kiss to the sleeping boy’s head.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Brenda asked from the corner of the room, your smile faltering a little as you looked at your child. Thomas stilled beside you, knew what was about to slip past your lips and he took your hand in his, smile on his face as he remembered the deal you made before everything happened.

“Newt,” you whispered, the tent falling silent and you looked up at your friends with tears in your eyes, and that familiar British boy on your mind.

“His name is Newt.”


End file.
